


you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon

by poisonrationalitie



Category: Counting On (TV) RPF
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Religious Guilt, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29371659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonrationalitie/pseuds/poisonrationalitie
Summary: (meet me in the garden)
Relationships: Kendra Caldwell/Lauren Swanson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon

**Author's Note:**

> For Femslash February, 7 - lips. The prompt inspired the title, which is taken from 'Cowboy Like Me' by Taylor Swift (btw check out her re-recording of Love Story, it's great!), which inspired the fic, so hopefully that counts as using the prompt, haha. It's all in good fun anyways.

Jana didn’t ask questions. She led Lauren out to the greenhouse after dinner and pointed her to the pruning shears, and then trotted back inside, returning to the warmth of the big house and her siblings and friends and the game. Lauren supposed she wasn’t Jana’s responsibility; if she did do anything wrong, it would reflect poorly on Josiah, not Jana. Lauren did a slow lap of the greenhouse, squinting at the plants. In the dark, they were completely unrecognisable; though even in the day she would’ve struggled. She’d never been one for the great outdoors, or digging in the dirt. It was too difficult to manage in a long skirt, anyway. If she really wanted to, she could’ve started now, now that she could wear jeans and only had to cook meals and do laundry for three. She didn’t want to. She was sick of doing things just because other people thought it was useful.

She snipped a sprig off the plant she’d claimed to want for her and Siah’s garden, and then set the shears down. Lauren turned her attention to the back door of the house, imagining what could be happening inside. Kendra would stand, excuse herself, complain of nausea, feel dizzy. Nobody would question it; she was always either pregnant or about to be. Dessert had been served just before Lauren left. It wouldn’t occur to Joe to cease scarfing down his bowl of ice cream to accompany Kendra on her quest for fresh air. Michelle would be in a medication-induced haze. Jim Bob would be talking to Josh. None of the Caldwells were there; Isaiah and Olivia had come down with the flu. Kendra would be allowed out alone. It was Kendra, after all. What would she ever do wrong?

On time, the back door slid open. Kendra was stark under the floodlights of the basketball court. Lauren sucked in her breath. Kendra looked gorgeous. Somehow she was prettier than she’d been ten minutes ago, in amongst the hustle and bustle. Her periwinkle dress came to her ankles, trimmed with white lace, as if she’d gotten into the stash of old prairie dresses the Duggar girls had worn twenty years ago and modernised them. She suited it. Frumpy femininity only served to emphasise her smile, the glow of her clear skin, her long blonde hair. It did what it was supposed to do, what it had never done for Lauren – draw attention to one’s countenance. Lauren leaned against the bench, watching her cross the yard. She kept looking over her shoulder. The glass doors remained shut. The trim of her dress glided across the damp grass.

Lauren pulled out her phone, and checked herself in the front-facing camera. She’d dressed up, enough for Josiah to notice, hopefully not so much that anyone else did. Except for Kendra.

 _“There’s nothing wrong with making an effort,_ ” she’d told Si, and he’d shrugged.

 _“I know,_ ” he said. _“I used to.”_ Before it was suspicious, before it was a mark against him, before anyone cared that it made him a lighthouse amongst craggy rocks when he stood with his t-shirt-and-old-jeans brothers. They changed Bella out of her onesie and put her in something cream and trendy that put her closer to the Seewalds than the Forsyths in terms of presentable children.

Kendra’s round face appeared at the glass door. Lauren tucked her phone in her pocket, and went to her.

“Are you alright?” Lauren asked. Kendra hugged herself, and nodded quickly. She checked over her shoulder again. “Come on,” Lauren said, and held the door open. Kendra slipped through. Lauren scanned the yard, ensuring they were alone, and shut the door. She turned around. Kendra frowned at a crop of lettuce.

“Lauren,” she said squeakily. Her cheeks turned pink. Lauren folded her arms across her chest. She knew that look. It was the same look that led the same conversations, the same unresolvable problem, the particular one she liked to pretend didn’t exist.

“Yep?”

“This is wrong.”

There it was. Every time. It didn’t stop it, or at least, it hadn’t yet. Lauren didn’t know why Kendra kept saying it. They both knew, didn’t they? But the acknowledgement of it before each time made it worse. If you didn’t know it was a sin, or did but got too caught up in the moment, there was more wiggle room. Less culpability. It was why men sinned so often– it was the way they were made, all fire in the blood, driven by a red hot beating heart. In their impulsivity, they forgot. Because of their impulsivity, they were forgiven. To talk about it each time, to unequivocally state the sinfulness of it, the wrongness – that was worse. So much worse.

Kendra had been taught to think before she acted. She was a girl, after all. Their only excuse for sin could be stupidity. She’d been taught that too.

Lauren stepped towards Kendra. Kendra inhaled sharply. Her fingers twisted together atop her swollen stomach. She needed to repaint her nails. Their pink coating had chipped. He hands were raw, products of too much time spent elbow-deep in homemade washing detergent or scrubbing dishes or lathering small children with bars of soap.

“You can tell,” Lauren said softly. It was true; what did they have to lose? You couldn’t send married women, married mothers off to ALERT. The Duggars didn’t dare court scandal again. Joe wouldn’t lay a hand on Kendra, for he adored her, and Josiah wouldn’t care enough to hit Lauren. What was the worst that could happen? Jim Bob glowering at them? He already loathed Lauren, as half the family and half the world seemed to. While ever Kendra popped out children and bought in paychecks, any misbehaviour could be overlooked. It would be Lauren’s fault. Everything already was; Josiah’s dead eyes, her miscarriage, Bella’s odd looks (despite the fact she really took after her father). She was a relentless attention seeker or a hiding coward. A copycat or a fashion wreck. What would they do? Split them up? Exclude Josiah and Lauren from family events, and risk them running down the path of the Dillards? They knew in no uncertain terms that she and Siah would. They knew in no uncertain terms that she and Siah had been through enough that the release of their story could smother the tender little flame of Counting On. The public had rather different views to the Duggars on the nature of discipline, of summer camps, of marriage, of mortal terror and how much was appropriate to inflict on a child.

Kendra shook her head. “No.”

“I mean it.”

“ _No._ ” It was more forceful than Lauren expected. Kendra set her rounded jaw. “I came, didn’t I?” Kendra swallowed, and stepped forward.

“I’m glad you did.”

“Kiss me,” Kendra said, reaching for her hand. Lauren took it, heart jumping. She wanted to give in. Close the space between them. It had been so long – over a month.

But that’d be too easy.

“Are you sure?” she asked, part-teasing. She ran her thumb over Kendra’s knuckles. The blonde pouted.

“Lauren,” she said, almost sternly, like she was talking to one of the kids. And then she softened: “Please.” Lauren did her best not to melt. _Please._ It had taken so long, circling around one another, poking, prodding, waiting, hiding. Lauren made a deep, guttural noise. Kendra had come, snuck out in the middle of a family event, and met her. She was here, demanding to be kissed. Lauren turned feverish, hot and dizzy and overcome, but in the best way. Victory. _Victory._

Or loss. Lauren had snuck out in the middle of a family event to await her in the greenhouse, not knowing if she would come, not knowing if she’d be frozen behind the glass, waiting and waiting and waiting until dawn broke and Siah had long gone home without her, waiting for the ghost of a girl who might not love her. Lauren wanted Kendra. Longed for her. Had longed for her for so, so long. Kendra could have set her up, and she’d have walked right into the trap, the ten minutes of hope worth whatever punishment was bought forth. Kendra, for all her ditzy blonde looks and giggles, had played Joe like a fiddle to the altar and cemented herself and her children into the best chance of money and fame any of them had any chance at; marrying, and being, a Duggar. A televised Duggar, a beloved Duggar. She’d done what Lauren could not. Perhaps she was playing the same game with Lauren.

But Lauren had nothing to give but herself.

Who won? Who got the best deal? Life was about spending and saving and scrounging, whether it be money or notoriety or sins and virtues. She had won; Kendra snuck out to see her. She had lost; she had snuck out to see Kendra.

Whoever lost deserved a kiss. Whoever won should have had the grace to give it to them.

Lauren leaned in, and pressed a kiss to Kendra’s lips.


End file.
